train wreck ✓

fourty-nine.

"are you drunk?"

i hiccuped, licking my lips, wishing that the taste of cheap bear was from miles' lips and not a crushed can. the colors around me looked duller than usual, but maybe i was just a depressed drunk. after uncle darrel had dropped me off home, i'd not-so-gracefully stumbled through the living room, knocking over a candle on my way. the shatter had woke my mom, my father at work.

she was looking at me like i'd grown two heads, her eyes bulging out as she held her hand on her hip obviously pissed.

i found myself sitting on the couch, head in hands as she tried to figure out what the hell was wrong. regardless of everything i'd heard that night, i decided to open up to her, "he doesn't want me anymore, mom. i'm not her! i'm not her and i will never be her."

and that was when she shook her head, "babygirl..." she let out.

her arms wound around me in motherly comfort as she twirled one of my curls around her finger, "oh. come here... it's not your fault and don't ever try and change yourself for someone else, you hear me? not him, not anybody because in the end, the only thing that matters it what you think of yourself not what a man thinks."

and i couldn't will myself against her northern accent, so i sunk into her, deciding not to tell her that wasn't the point and she wouldn't understand.